


Dear Mrs Winchester...

by ItsSteveNow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Feels, Sorry Not Sorry, Universe Crossover, mary is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:44:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsSteveNow/pseuds/ItsSteveNow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just one of my quick, feelsy  imagines...<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Mrs Winchester...

'Dear Mrs Winchester,

My name is y/n. You don't know me, but I know all about you. From your sons. I know them well.

But from a different world.

In this world, you died in Sam's nursery when he was six months old, killed by a demon. When your sons found me, saved me and took me in, they were a mess. Two seconds away from a melt down, both of them in their own way. Just like me...

I have spent the last few years picking up the pieces while they pick up mine, over and over again. Over and over. Because the evil never stops.

I understand this is not really any of your business. That you got away from the life once. That you probably want nothing to do with hunting, not ever again.

But I last that, even though they're not /your/ sons, you'll see that Sam was the son of _a_ Mary Winchester. He probably looks very much like your own Sammy. Tall, shaggy, too kind for his own good. Have I got that about right?

Now imagine him hurting, scared, broken. That is who I have. And I really do love him. 

One step at a time, I need him to be okay, so we can find Dean. Dean's missing, that's why I need you. It's a long, painful story that you need never be burdened with. Just hear me out? 

Sam's in pain. I need blood from his family, really, blood family, to help him. A spell... And with Dean gone... 

You were a hunter once, you know about this stuff. Please help me save my Sam, and with his help when he's well again, we can save Dean too. Because I know you'd try to do the same in my position. Tall, shaggy, too kind. And he's dying. I think he's dying... I just want to help my Sam... 

I love your son, Sam. Both of them, actually... And I'm scared I'm losing them. I've lost Dean already. I need him back. I can't lose Sam too. Sam is everything to me, and he's the only way we can save Dean. 

Please consider it, and meet me. 

I'm staying at the Black Knight motel on third and I'm praying you show. I only have to next Tuesday here, in this world. I'm praying you trust me. Look at your boys and please, just consider it... 

Thank you for your time, 

Y/n' 

**~**

Mary lowers the note, hands shaking like they did the first twelve times she read it. And she glances behind her, at the two boys sat around the dinner table messing with each other and laughing with smiles on their mouths and eyes crinkled up. Her heart lurches for this girl who writes to her so desperately. Whether she's crazy or not, she's described her sweet child to a tee. 

Tall, shaggy, too kind he won't even throw the bread roll back at his brother. Even when he's pelted with another. 

Mary calls in to them, telling them to behave, that they're grown men for God's sake. And she remembers when they were even just the smallest bit younger. Like in the photograph in front of her on the little desk where she sets down the phone. 

She picks it up to look closer, taking in the soft smiles of her family, her husband behind the lens would have been telling them some bad 'dad-joke' and waiting for the perfect moment to 'snap' the picture. It was the perfect picture. 

And it is the perfect picture. This girl won't get a perfect picture with Sam, the boy she says she loves, and Dean. Not if she doesn't help her... 

What is she thinking? It's not her place. She shouldn't get involved. She got out of the life once. If she steps back into it, even just briefly, there's no saying if shell ever escape again... So no, she shouldn't get involved. It's not her business, her family is here. Put that girl out of her mind. 

Then why can't she stop thinking about the words in this page? Why can't she get out of her head the way the ink of the shaky letters runs on places, like tears had hit the page? Why can't she stop reading and rereading this damn note. Why can't she forget about this girls problems while she has her family safe with her? 

Why is she at her front door, coat on and calling to her sons that she be back shortly, the motel name scribbled on her hand hurriedly, out in the cold air and rushing down the block on this Monday night without hesitation? 

Because they're her sons and this girl needs them like she needs them, this girl might as all be family if she's cared for her babies as she claims to have... 

And because these people need saving. It was drummed into her before she could form a sentence. It's in her coding. 

Saving people. 

Hunting things. 

Her family's business... 

_Her_ business. 

**THE END**


End file.
